


A Little Bit In Love With It

by afropuffchan



Series: Desperately Wicked and Unknown [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, bottom!Rumlow, the pairing is its own warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:25:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1900548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afropuffchan/pseuds/afropuffchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Asset seems much more efficient after certain needs have been met, and Brock has to face up to things that he'd rather not admit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Bit In Love With It

Obscured by the shadows cast by an abandoned building, the cracked window panes boarded up with wood that had long since turned gray in the harsh elements, rested a large black van. Two men stood outside of the vehicle leaning against its side, one with folded arms, and the other with fingers drumming against the cool dark metal in impatience.

"We're too exposed here," Williams complained as he spared a glance at his teammate, whose face was turned toward the darkened alleyway nearby. "All we need is for somebody to traipse by here so soon after a mission and report a suspicious vehicle. The cops aren't exactly stupid around here, and only so many of them are on HYDRA's payroll."

Rollins turned to cut him a look. "Pretty sure this vehicle isn't the most suspicious thing in this part of the city. If you want to go find the Asset and tell him to haul ass, be my guest. Maybe you want to interrupt whatever he's doing to Rumlow, but I'm not getting in the middle of that. I like my life, such that it is. I'll be sure to organize a collection for your funeral, get you some real nice flowers."

Williams turned ashen, but other than grumbling something Rollins couldn't quite catch, he was relatively silent as they waited beside the boarded up building. The team had only traveled half of the way to the safe house where they needed to wait a few hours for extraction. But the Asset had started to get that glassy look in his eyes that practically bored a hole into Rumlow's head as he stared pointedly at the man. Then Rumlow had insisted that they stop so that the Asset could relieve himself. By now, all the other guys in STRIKE knew exactly how the Soldier was planning to 'relieve himself,' no matter how Rumlow tried to explain away needing to accompany him while he took a leak. The way the Soldier nearly dragged Rumlow with him out of the van told them all they didn't want to know on the subject. The two of them had ducked into the adjacent alley to... do whatever it was that they were currently doing that had muffled groans and curses coming from that direction, not that Rollins was trying to listen to them or anything.

After a few more minutes, the two men emerged from around the back of the building to walk toward the van. The Asset appeared as calm and collected as he had when he'd first left the facility while he stalked back toward the vehicle. The same couldn't be said for Rumlow. His hair looked tousled and his face was flushed, a faint sheen of sweat catching the dimmed light. The deep breaths he took couldn't have been from trying to keep pace with the Asset considering the distance they'd walked. Both Rollins and Williams pretended not to notice the slight limp that Rumlow seemed to have acquired since leaving the van.

"Can we proceed to the safe house now?" Rollins asked without quite meeting Rumlow's eyes.

"Yeah," Rumlow said, still mildly breathless. "The sooner we get there, the better."

The men climbed back into the van to join the two other STRIKE members that were waiting within. The walls of the vehicle suddenly seemed interesting to the other men when Rumlow winced while climbing inside to sit down gingerly on the bench opposite the Asset. If Rollins didn't know better, he'd swear the Soldier's eyes held what seemed like mild amusement as they gazed out over that rigid mask of his at Rumlow.

After arriving at the safe house and ensuring that the building was still secure, the team settled in to wait out their extraction. The Asset took up a position in the main room that the team members lingered in from which he had a full view of the area. When Rumlow announced that he was going to the bathroom to freshen up at Rollins' questioning, Williams eyes followed him out of the room. He shook his head while wearing a disapproving look.

"What?" Rollins asked, taking issue with his teammate's expression.

"Just wondering why he walks around acting like nobody knows what's up," Williams answered. "Limps around, more like."

"Talk any louder, and he might hear you," Rollins noted. "It's not like the walls aren't thin in this place or any of the others we hide out in."

"Don't I know it," Williams remarked, his face twisting with what looked like disgust. "And he should hear considering what we have to put up with. It burns me how he struts around barking orders when he's practically the Asset's plaything. Who does he think he is?"

"Our CO," Rollins said since it seemed that the other man needed a reminder. He frowned when he heard Williams utter something that sounded suspiciously like 'well, maybe he shouldn't be,' but Williams didn't give any further remarks for the duration of their wait. This might have had something to do with how, when he'd gazed in the Asset's direction, whatever he'd seen in his cool, blue stare had made the man turn away to look uncomfortably out the window.

 

After the team had returned to the HYDRA facility, the Asset sat calmly in the chair as the scientists milled around him, checking his vitals and other data. As opposed to other times where he had been agitated or distracted after a mission, the man gazed forward with an alert expression. Periodically, his eyes strayed to where Rumlow stood off to one side of the room.

A few minutes later, Pierce and his entourage strode into the room. Pierce cast a cursory glance over the Asset as the man gazed up at him from his position in the chair.

"Mission report," the man demanded of the Asset.

Without missing a beat, the Soldier gave a concise summarization of the successful mission that had concluded a few hours earlier. Pierce nodded his approval at the man's presentation. He turned toward the head scientist who hovered nearby. "What's his condition post mission?" Pierce asked.

"Our testing shows that he's operating at optimal levels," the scientist answered. "There have been none of the usual anomalies in his behavior that had plagued him even while on the suppressants.

"Excellent," Pierce said, his voice holding a pleased tone. He turned toward Rumlow. "Did he require... your personal assistance while in the field, Rumlow?" he asked.

Rumlow felt uncomfortable under his superior's scrutiny, as well as by the looks he saw some STRIKE members sharing amongst themselves. "Yeah," he answered, knowing what Pierce was referring to, his voice managing to stay steady.

"And for what duration?" Pierce asked him in the same tone he would if he were referring to how well the Asset performed while dispatching his targets. At Rumlow's bowed head and sigh, the older man remarked, "It's important for the scientists to know for their studies of the Asset. I wouldn't ask otherwise."

Rumlow was sure Pierce was still trying to stick it to him for what the man saw as his previous mishandling of the Asset, asking such a thing in front of everyone to embarrass him. If that was what the old bastard was up to, it was working. Despite the reasons for the question, Rumlow knew he had to give his superior an answer. "For about twenty minutes or so." He grimaced, looking everywhere but at Pierce's face while he absently rubbed the back of his neck. "It's hard to keep track of time while he's..." he trailed off uncomfortably.

"And how have _you_ been, Rumlow?" Pierce asked, worry that was likely manufactured lacing his voice and features. "Do you need anything?" His veneer of concern cracked when he smirked. "Medical attention, perhaps?" he suggested with a loose shrug.

Brock couldn't stop the brief, manic laughter that bubbled up from his chest. "He hasn't killed me yet, so I guess I'm alright," he remarked, the ghost of an odd smile hanging onto his lips. "Seems like I'm even tougher than I thought."

Rumlow gazed up at the sensation of a hand alighting onto his shoulder. "I want you to know that we all appreciate the sacrifice that you've been making to keep operations running smoothly," Pierce told him in his best politician's voice. He squeezed the younger man's shoulder as if in reassurance before pulling away to address everyone. "The team has done excellent work. The next mission briefing will be in eighteen hours, so be prepared and have the Asset running at peak conditions." At the collective nod he received, Pierce exited the lab.

After their superior left, the members of STRIKE milled around in the room as the scientists ran a few more tests on the Asset. While Rumlow spoke to Rollins, he could feel the Winter Soldier's gaze as it passed over him. Brock looked over his shoulder and was distressed but unsurprised by the sight of the man's piercing and hungry gaze trained upon him.

"Since we've got some downtime, a few of the guys were going out after dinner to take advantage of it," Rollins told Brock, his face unreadable as he noticed how long it took for Rumlow to pull his eyes away from the Asset. "You coming with us?"

"Nah," Brock said after a moment. "I have to take care of a few things. Maybe another time."

Rollins nodded slowly, casting his eyes briefly over Rumlow's shoulder at what the man likely had to take care of during his free time. Jack had no problem breaking eye contact considering the look he received from the Soldier. "Sure," he responded before bidding his teammate goodbye and heading out with the others after a few moments.

Rumlow watched them go before turning back toward Winter, watching the assistants disconnect him from the monitoring devices. The air about the man was familiar, and Brock wasn't sure whether it was dread or anticipation that had his stomach feeling tight. One of the assistants gave Rumlow what appeared to be a sympathetic glance as the Asset rose from his seat to lightly grasp one of Brock's hands in his metal one to lead him toward the door at the back of the room.

The assistant who held the door ajar for them as they passed through it didn't meet Brock's eyes, examining something interesting on the far wall. Rumlow frowned as the door closed behind them. He could no longer count the number of times that he'd been in this bare and featureless room. They had been numerous enough for him to have dreams where the pale walls would close in on him, leaving him to shout into the looming darkness. But for every nightmare, there were dreams half-remembered at daybreak which left Brock covered in sweat and hard enough to pound nails.

Though he didn't want to admit it, least of all to himself, Rumlow was aware that something had gone very wrong with him. His footsteps stopped in the center of the room, making Winter turn back toward him with a quizzical frown. Brock resented him all the more suddenly, as if Winter had no idea why he'd hesitate. As if Winter didn't know how he'd warped him.

When this had all started, that bastard Pierce expecting him to continue to service the Asset since it had worked wonders the first time, Rumlow had thought that he could weather it without letting any of what happened touch him. He'd thought that he could bury the memory of times like these deeply enough where he didn't need to reflect upon them, just like many other things he'd done for the cause. He'd believed that he could do what was expected of him and then return to what little of a normal life he had outside of his duties. Rumlow had never been one for long-term relationships, but he'd tried seeking out a few women, even a man or two, but the couplings had left him feeling unfulfilled in ways he'd never been before. A yearning lingered within him afterwards, something that chaffed beneath his skin that couldn't be sated until times like these, where Winter loomed large before him, waiting to draw him toward that narrow bed. Waiting to devour him. A familiar feeling took hold of Brock again, one of being uneasy in his own skin, and simultaneously not knowing whether he cared or not.

"My head hasn't been screwed on straight since you started doing this shit to me," Rumlow announced, his eyes hovering somewhere in the vicinity of the other man's midsection. "There's no fun in going out to pick someone up just to... I haven't even been sleeping right," he finished, resisting the self-deprecating laughter that threatened to bubble up from inside him again.

"Maybe you need this as much as I do, now," Winter suggested simply.

"You tap my ass a few times and now you're acting like you're inside my head or something," Brock remarked, suddenly angry. "Do you think I walk around just waiting for you to fuck me? Especially with how everybody's laughing at me behind my back for bending over and taking it from you?"

A dangerous look passed across Winter's face. "Who does?" he demanded. "Tell me."

Brock was taken aback for a moment before he answered, "You going to rough up everybody who has or something? You're my champion, now? I wouldn't have this problem if you hadn't made me your fucktoy. You should have taken one of the guys that works on you out there in the lab. It's not like they have real lives anyway."

Winter had the nerve to pout, brows knitting together. "If you really don't want to, then-"

"That didn't stop you before," Brock remarked saucily about their first time together in this room, and Winter had the decency to look the least bit guilty.

"I didn't mean to be so rough, then," the other man said, an apologetic note to his voice. "I was too far gone to help it."

"So, you're guilty about being too rough, not about making me spread for you in the first place," Rumlow deadpanned.

"Yes," Winter agreed, and Brock couldn't help the knot in his stomach at the blunt way the other man had said it. "It was the first time that they let me do something I wanted. I can't be guilty about that."

"That's fucked up, Winter," Rumlow told him, watching the other man move closer. He stood his ground, since there was no purpose in backing away from him. At this point, what was about to happen was inevitable, but Brock had felt the need to protest anyway.

"Sorry," the Soldier said, but his tone told Brock that he wasn't very, if at all. He reached out to stroke Rumlow's short hair as he stepped close. "I'll make it up to you." He cupped the back of Rumlow's head to hold him in place.

"There's no way you can-" Rumlow tried to say before his words were stolen when Winter licked his way into his mouth to give him a searching kiss. Brock's eyes fluttered closed as he acquiesced. The man could kiss, Rumlow would give him that, the kind where a person felt weak at the knees if it went on long enough. He idly wondered where he'd learned the skill, wondered what lucky girl or guy he'd left behind in the life he'd had before becoming the Asset.

Without breaking the kiss, Winter maneuvered Rumlow back toward the bed. Brock allowed himself to fall onto it, reclining while Winter stripped him of his clothing. The man planted moist kisses on his skin as it was revealed. He returned to mouth under the angle of Rumlow's jaw as Brock tipped back his head obligingly before trailing down his body. Winter lapped at the skin of his lower belly while his hands skittered over Brock's thighs. His cock was already half hard, so as far as making things up to someone, Rumlow figured that the man was off to a good start.

It was almost too much to watch those intense eyes gaze up at him as Winter laved the shaft of his eager erection, then moved lower to draw a testicle into his mouth, making Brock shudder. His belly was taut with anticipation, and as he'd hoped, Winter trailed even lower still with that wicked mouth of his. Rumlow obligingly drew up his legs and spread his thighs wide to give the other man better access. Brock was rewarded when Winter put his mouth right where he needed it, tongue moistly circling his hole before plunging rhythmically inside. Rumlow hissed, his back arching off the mattress while his toes curled.

Rumlow wasn't surprised when after a blissfully long while, that tongue was replaced by a finger which was thankfully moistened with whatever substance Winter had obtained from the assistants in the lab. But what Brock wasn't expecting was the feel of firm metal as it made its way inside of him. He made a disagreeing sound, shifting uncomfortably due to having an unyielding digit stretch him that was followed too soon by another. Brock twitched around their girth as they slowly pressed once more into his hole. "Can you even feel anything when you do that?" he asked, suddenly anxious. "How do you know you're not going to tear anything in there?"

"I have proprioception and pressure sensation in my arm and fingers," Winter said. He flexed the two digits and rubbed softly, drawing a surprised moan out of Rumlow. "See? I know how not to do damage with them."

"Ah, fuck," Brock moaned as the other man drew the head of his cock into his mouth, suckling on it as he continued to milk his prostate. Brock was so hard, he thought he would burst. Rumlow leaned back against the mattress propped up on his elbows, his head falling backward as his eyes slid shut. It wasn't long before his hips were rutting upwards in short thrusts into Winter's mouth that the man didn't seem to mind. Rumlow's breath started to come in gasps, his stomach muscles fluttering.

"Oh, I'm going to come, I'm gonna come," Rumlow chanted breathlessly, his voice tight. And he would have, if Winter hadn't chosen that moment to pull off and then squeeze the base of his cock hard enough that it bordered on pain. Rumlow sputtered as he watched the man pull away to stand. "Oh, come on. If you're gonna make me sore for hours, at least let me get off first," he complained.

"Not yet," Winter informed him, sliding his trousers and underwear downward to free his half hard cock. After removing them entirely, he pulled a frowning and disgruntled Rumlow up into a sitting position. He still had a hold of one of Brock's shoulders as he took his free hand and guided his cock toward Rumlow's pouting mouth.

Brock swiftly turned to the side, his face flushing when he felt the head of Winter's cock butt against his cheek. He placed hands on the man's hips to push him ineffectually away. "I'm not sucking your cock," Rumlow stated, mildly disturbed at how Winter moaned softly while rubbing the head of his dick against the stubble on his cheek. "I don't suck dick. Besides, when you get hot and bothered, you lose control. You'll end up choking me." Rumlow had done it to others, by accident, of course, in the heat of the moment. That possibility as well as the connotations of the act was what kept him from performing it on others when asked in the past.

"I do it for you all the time, though," Winter reminded him with a frown.

"No," Brock insisted, trying to resist the movement as Winter's hand moved from his shoulder to grasp his chin, pulling him toward his cock and holding him in place. Rumlow pressed his lips firmly closed as the tip of his erection tried to seek entry.

The Soldier frowned. "Fair is fair," he remarked sullenly before he took the hand not holding his chin and pinched Brock's nose closed. Rumlow couldn't believe that the man was actually doing it. His hands scrabbled and pushed at Winter's hips to no avail. Rumlow's eyes teared up faintly as he stubbornly kept his lips shut until the very last moment, his mouth opening to take a deep breath, and Winter's cock following inward soon after.

"Don't bite," the Soldier warned. Despite how upset he was, Rumlow had enough sense not to do so. Because no matter how sweet Winter apparently found his ass, Brock had no doubt that if he bit the man, Winter would likely twist off his head and possibly fuck his corpse if he was horny enough.

At Winter's urging, Rumlow began to suckle reluctantly at the thick flesh between his lips. It wasn't so bad at first. The longer he sucked, though, the more there was of an intermittent salty fluid that he could taste on his tongue. But it wasn't as disgusting as he'd assumed it would be. But then Winter started pushing rhythmically into Brock's mouth, his cock sliding farther over his tongue on each slow pass. The closer it got to the back of his throat, the more he had the urge to gag. He coughed, and Winter mercifully pulled back.

"Just relax," Winter told Brock despite the negative way the man moaned around him. "Breathe through your nose. It's okay," he shushed him as he slowly pressed farther inward, making Rumlow stiffen. "It's okay, just let me."

With the way Winter was holding him, he didn't have much choice but to try to accommodate him. Rumlow grimaced, trying to hold off on gagging as he felt the head of Winter's cock pass over the back of his tongue again. He breathed hard through his nose while he listened to the Soldier's moans. Soon, Winter was uttering praise each time he pressed deep into Brock's mouth. He twitched every time he felt Winter's cock touch the back of his throat, tears springing to his eyes. On the next pass, Winter hadn't gotten halfway in before he was moaning filthily and spilling over Brock's tongue and down his throat. Rumlow was forced to swallow or else choke on the liquid. When Winter pulled away, Rumlow coughed, pearly fluid clinging to his lips.

"You could have warned me," Brock said accusingly between coughs, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

"I meant to," Winter said, gazing at Rumlow's red and swollen lips with interest. "Sorry." He leaned down to press a kiss to the corner of Rumlow's mouth as the man tried to turn away.

"Don't try to smooth it over," Brock muttered with a frown, but his ministrations were already working. Rumlow's breath hitched as the Soldier started playing with one of his nipples. Brock turned his face back toward the other man, allowing Winter to part his lips and kiss him deeply, moaning as he tasted himself on Brock's tongue.

Winter pressed him back against the bed, moving over him to lay between his spread thighs. Rumlow could feel the man's cock twitching against his own as he grinded their pelvises together. After a while, Brock felt restless, the stroke of Winter's erection along his own making a familiar ache burn low in his gut.

"If you're going to take me, get on with it already," Rumlow said, not sure which of them he was more irritated at. "I'm not going to just rub against you all night when I could be doing other things."

When Winter halted abruptly to stare at Rumlow, through him being a more apt description, Brock felt strangely exposed. Though the man's expression was focused and otherwise unreadable, Rumlow feared that the man had realized how much eagerness lay under his anger. If Winter saw after searching his face for a long moment, he gave no indication. But then the single kiss that he pressed to Brock's closed mouth may have signified something that Rumlow didn't want to look at too closely.

Whatever tension had thickened the air between them passed soon after Winter slicked himself up before pushing steadily inside, one of Brock's ankles hooked behind his shoulder while his metal hand firmly gripped his thigh. Rumlow gazed up at him sidelong, his mouth open in a silent moan as deep, firm thrusts rocked his body against the mattress. He shuddered as Winter began to move against that place inside him, groaning deep in his throat. Rumlow's hand drifted downward to surround his aching cock, stroking the heated flesh until the other man batted his hand away.

"What the-" Rumlow managed to say between thrusts. "Can't I just-"

"You don't need to," Winter informed him, grasping Brock's hand as it tried to return between his legs. "You can come just from this."

Rumlow's spluttered protests were silenced when the other man tested Brock's limberness by pressing his knees up against his chest to plunge inside him while Brock's mouth hung open on breathless pants, clinging to the sheets helplessly. Each thrust that had the springs beneath Rumlow squeaking hit home, the muscles of his body tensing as he gasped for air. With a surprised moan, Brock soiled his own stomach with warm white fluid.

"See, I knew you could do it," Winter told him, Brock's muscles protesting all the more when the man bent forward to kiss him sloppily. He pulled back to thrust raggedly into Rumlow's post-coital body until his hips stuttered to a stop, a satisfied moan passing his lips. After a moment, he pulled his softening cock out of him, rolling off to rest on his back next to Brock.

Rumlow lay on the bed, his thighs still trembling and his mind blissfully blank in the afterglow of having his body thoroughly used. For the moment, there was none of what haunted him at times. There was only the sensation of Winter's essence trickling out of him into the firm mattress beneath him, and the feel of the man spooning against his side. There was only the scent of what they'd done lingering on their bodies and the sheets, and the warmth that bloomed inside Brock's chest at the hand gently trailing across his skin.


End file.
